A Little More than One Million BC
by Jedi Buttercup
Summary: Control the past, control the future? Not on Buffy's watch.
1. A Little More than One Million BC

**Title**: A Little More than One Million B.C.

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not.

**Summary**: _Buffy had never thought she'd ever actually look forward to crossing dimensions... but there was nothing for her in 2149, not with all the magic gone out of the world._ (A challenge drabble series). 10 x 200 words.

**Spoilers**: B:tVS post-Chosen; no comics; Terra Nova through episode 7

**Notes**: Written for the 2012 Mod Birthday Challenge. The drabbles end before Terra Nova does; but an altered status quo is achieved, and the stories I plan to tell after that point can't be confined to drabble format.

* * *

><p><strong>The Key to Breathing<strong>  
><em>#113 - Secrets<em>

"Your bodies will not be accustomed to the oxygen rich atmosphere," the PA system overhead declared. "Please take short, even breaths."

Buffy pulled her arms tight around herself as the crowd jostled down the metal walkway toward the portal, trying to remember the last time she'd taken a full, satisfying breath. She'd never thought she'd ever actually look _forward_ to crossing dimensions... but there was nothing for her in 2149, not with all the magic gone out of the world, and the only blood she had left had already gone with the first two pilgrimages.

Well... _almost_ all of it. She was the last one alive who knew that the fracture marked the point in space where a certain little sister had spilled the last of hers a century before. It had taken time for the fault line to stabilize... but the Eternal Slayer found it kind of appropriate that Dawn's last act had been the foundation of a way for Earth's population to escape the consequences of the death of the supernatural.

She'd lived long enough to grieve the start of the decay. Buffy was rather glad neither of them would be around to see the end of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Welcome Surprises<strong>  
><em>#114 - Dance<em>

Commander Taylor came out on his balcony to greet the influx of new colonists like a lord overseeing his people. He addressed them first as citizens of the future, reminding them who they'd been and what they'd left behind, and then set about inspiring them to join his vision.

Buffy remembered how much effort that kind of leadership took. She'd never been great at it, but she'd managed when she'd had to. Her sister's descendants, on the other hand, tended to take to it like a duck to water. Little Nate- not so little anymore- had inherited that in full measure.

He looked good, fit and strong in his army wear, with Dawn's eyes stern and bright under a thick head of prematurely grayed hair. She remembered playing with him as a little boy, making his dinosaur figurines dance together instead of fighting; he'd protested mightily, but giggled at the spectacle. Kind of ironic, considering they'd both ended up in 85 Million BC.

Not that he knew she was there, yet. She'd put her original name down on the paperwork, not her Auntie Liz alias.

She met his startled gaze when he scanned the crowd with her best mischievous smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Cutting in<strong>  
><em>#114 - Dance<em>

One of the guards cut through the crowd, singling Buffy out: Commander Taylor wanted to see her. Since that had been the whole point of catching his attention during the welcome speech, she agreed.

It didn't hurt that the guard was cute: young and earnest and very Riley-ish. It made her want to pinch his cheeks and wish him a bright, normal girlfriend, like some kind of creepy nostalgic godmother.

The more weathered, taut-bodied blond who do-si-do'd awkwardly around her as he and his wife left Nate's office was more her current speed. Pity he was married- and crazy; she'd witnessed the chaos he'd caused at the portal.

...Not that she hadn't stowed away, too. She'd just... planned better.

"At first, I thought I must have a cousin I never knew about," her great-nephew growled, narrowing his eyes as she entered. "But that's not it, is it. Aunt Liz."

"Hey, Nate-ums," she grinned, teasingly.

He ignored that, frowning. "_How_? And I don't just mean, why didn't I see your name in the lists."

"I'm down as Buffy Summers. And... it's kind of a long story?"

He snorted and laced his fingers atop his nifty dino-skull table. "I've got the time."

* * *

><p><strong>A Question of Security<strong>  
><em>#115 - all's fair in love and war<em>

The blonde gal who looked so much like Taylor's long-lost aunt had told an unbelievable story about a private program to create augmented warriors that had self-destructed in the early 2000s. But she'd also demonstrated the strength she claimed, and offered DNA so he could test their connection.

The tests had finally come back: positive. But she was a bad liar; there was more she wasn't telling.

"Soldier to psychologist," he mused, tapping her file as he considered how far to trust her. "How long did you fight before switching careers?"

Aunt Liz- she called herself Buffy now- shrugged. "Which time? I never manage normal very long, but sometimes I just need a break."

"You'd be wasted in the clinic, then," he decided. Best put her with another question mark whose character he wasn't sure of, but that he _could_ be sure wasn't connected to the unofficial war with the Sixers. "The new Sherriff needs a deputy; Doc Wallace can request another shrink in the Eleventh."

Buffy must have run into Shannon already; her nose wrinkled in disgruntled resignation. "Fair enough. Working with the crazy guy it is."

He finally cracked a smile. "Should be interesting, at least. Welcome aboard."

* * *

><p><strong>Where They Understand You<strong>  
><em>#116 - home sweet home<em>

The rover jolted slightly as the doc keyed the ignition, and Jim looked over his shoulder to see a slight blonde sliding into the back. It was the deputy Taylor had saddled him with; he'd called her his 'niece', but she'd giggled at the introduction. Something was a little off, there.

"Hey," he objected. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Buffy smirked as she strapped in. "Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that? I heard Lt. Washington tell you about the quarantine."

He sighed. "Look, my _wife's_ out there, and they missed their check-in..."

"Hey, I get it," she interrupted. "Why do you think I'm here? Commander Taylor's my... uncle. I haven't even got used to calling this place home yet; he doesn't get to skip out on me _now_."

Uncle; _right_. "So you won't mind if I blame you when Wash complains?"

"_Hey_," Malcolm put in. "If the pair of you are going to fight the whole way, then I'm not taking _either_ of you. This _is_ my rover, you know."

Jim caught Buffy rolling her eyes in unison with him a second later.

Well, at least they had _something_ in common to build a working relationship from.

* * *

><p><strong>A Meeting of Equals<strong>  
><em>#117 - lost in translation<em>

The shrewd green gaze of the short blonde at Taylor's shoulder made Mira uneasy. She seemed strangely familiar, though Mira couldn't place her.

No matter. Mira was sure the spy would uncover her identity. In the meantime, she was just another audience member for what was about to go down.

"Leah, look at me," she addressed the little infiltrator. "Tell them you want to come home. Speak!"

The girl reacted perfectly, looking pleadingly at Taylor and then latching on to his new cop as she declared herself a runaway. Mira replied with an exaggerated sneer, telling Taylor to keep her- letting him feel like he'd won, just enough to let down his guard.

The blonde wasn't buying it, though. "In case anyone missed the translation?" she snorted. "That was Sixer for 'Mwahaha, my plan is working'."

Leah cringed like a mouse under a hawk's stare- and Mira swore at the revealing gesture. Then she signaled her troops, abandoning Leah to Taylor's mercies.

The girl would keep her mouth shut about the box she'd been sent to steal if she knew what was good for her brother. And she might be useful yet. But for now... back to the drawing board.

* * *

><p><strong>Psychological Warfare<strong>  
><em>#74 - lost and found<em>

She tracked the Sixers until they cut Shannon loose, then broke cover.

The little girl Mira had Trojaned into the colony had refused to explain _why_ while her brother was supposedly held hostage: so, Buffy had snuck OTG to see what was the what, against her great-nephew's orders. Only to stumble over her nominal boss getting caught doing likewise. So she'd followed along, waiting for the right moment to intervene.

He stopped and winced as he spotted her. "You."

"Me," she agreed, crossing her arms. "Well?"

"She wasn't lying _this_ time," Shannon shrugged, hand on the boy's shoulder. "You going to arrest me for rescuing him?"

"Depends on whether you bought Mira's speech before she let you go," Buffy replied, tartly. The terrorist leader had spouted a load of Fyarl snot about Taylor and Terra Nova's true purpose. Buffy appreciated Shannon's determination to do the right thing- but whether she could trust that depended on what he believed the right thing _was_.

"You trying to tell me your uncle doesn't have his own agenda, too?" he parried, skeptically.

Truthfully? She _did_ have questions. Where the hell was Lucas, for starters.

"Fair enough," Buffy sighed. "C'mon, then. We'll talk more later."

* * *

><p><strong>Devil In The Details<strong>  
><em>#106 - it isn't what it looks like<em>

Working conditions improved after Shannon and Buffy found common ground. He was surprisingly competent, and his crazy had turned out to be the canny kind. Family conditions worsened, though: Nate went all prickly on her after she brought up the subject of his missing son.

That made her hesitate when she overheard Shannon's eldest talking about meeting Mira with the barkeep while everyone else was busy solving a murder. She didn't want to rock the boat further- or distract from the investigation- without proof. So for the second time in as many weeks Buffy snuck outside the gates alone, tracking an idiot boy and a girl too sweet on him to be smart.

...And for the second time in as many weeks, Mira appeared to make demands, giving away more with what she didn't say than what she did. She made a heavy-handed deal with Josh to save his girlfriend back uptime- but completely ignored Skye. No glares, no threats, not a word.

...Which made zero sense unless Mira already had enough leverage to keep _her_ biddable. Skye Tate: Nate's foster daughter. A spy he'd never suspect?

Forget rocking the boat; Buffy was going to capsize it with _that_ report.

* * *

><p><strong>Turning The Tide<strong>  
><em>#95 - swifter, higher, stronger<em>

Nate studied his aunt, arms crossed, as everyone else scattered to his orders.

"So." He was still angry about the revelations of the last week, and her continual poking at the raw wound of Lucas' absence, but realistically he couldn't blame her for either Skye's confession of betrayal or a desire to see her other great-nephew. So he was trying to be civil. "Just how comprehensive was that augmented warrior program of yours? If there's an attack while the defenses are down..."

Buffy glanced around at the debris flung up by the second meteor's sonic wave, then frowned and- reached. He didn't see where it came from, but an old-school weapon with a curving metal blade appeared in her hand. "I can handle it," she said- and suddenly he could see the years in her eyes, past her distracting physical youth.

"Good," he said, gruffly. "Let's hope you don't need to."

Watching her dance with a 'saur outside the fence later on, he had cause to remember that fierce expression- and be glad he'd trusted her enough to spread a few men out in case of a diversion.

Maybe, just maybe, his colony really did have a chance for survival.

* * *

><p><strong>All Together Now<strong>  
><em>#85 - making do<em>

"They'll know by now," Skye said fretfully, curled up in a chair on the balcony outside Nate's office. "I've missed too many reports. My mother's probably..." Her face contorted.

Buffy sighed. She'd done some short-sighted things at that age herself. But _seriously_. Skye should have told Nate the Sixers had her mom ages ago; they might've been able to use Skye as a double agent, if not save the woman outright. "Maybe not. They won't know why, right? So they'll probably try to pressure you about the box again first."

"You think so?" Skye replied, plaintively.

"Yep," she said, remembering Kralick and her own mother. "That gives us some time; we'll think of something."

"And until then, life in Terra Nova goes on," Nate said, exiting the office. "Deputy? I believe Shannon's looking for you."

His smile was warmer than it had been, lately. He still hadn't talked about Lucas, but he seemed more- optimistic, somehow?

Buffy decided to take that as a positive sign. They might all be learning on the job, but they wouldn't lose the past like they'd lost the future. "On my way," she smiled back, then squeezed Skye's hand and headed down into the crowd.

-x-


	2. Paging Eryishon

**Title**: Paging Eryishon

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not.

**Summary**: B:tVS/Terra Nova. _If Buffy could bring someone from 2149 without the Sixers' help, it would make Terra Nova's position that much stronger in the inevitable conflict._ 2000 words.

**Fandom**: B:tVS post-Chosen, no comics; Terra Nova 1.8 "Proof"

**Notes**: Middle section contains a few lines from "Proof", to establish the time setting in comparison to canon; otherwise part of a continuing post-Chosen crossover AU.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Josh," Buffy said casually, approaching the Sherriff's son where he sat with his back to the fence. He'd been on scutwork detail for a couple of weeks, ever since she'd reported his meeting with Mira to her nephew; his latest punishment had been weeding along the perimeter of the colony, the same job that had been assigned to his father those first couple of days after he'd crashed the Tenth Pilgrimage. Josh didn't seem to care, though; he just stared apathetically off into the distance when he wasn't up to his knuckles in dirt, the same way he'd been acting ever since Nate had questioned him.<p>

He grunted as she sat down next to him, but didn't look up, just wrapped his arms tighter around his upraised knees. "Hey."

"I'm sorry," she said, watching him sympathetically. "Not for reporting you- but, you know. I've left people behind before. I know how it feels."

Josh made a scoffing noise, full of teenage self-absorption. She remembered those days, both from her own perspective and from dealing with Dawn, so his next words came as no surprise. "Right. Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No," she replied, honestly. "I just thought you might want to talk about it." Shannon was worried about him, but Nate had the man running all over the place tightening security to make sure no one else used the routes Skye had created to get information out of the colony, and between Skye and the Sixers Nate himself was utterly distracted. Of all the people with some kind of authority over him that Josh might trust enough to talk to, that left only Buffy and Elisabeth- and Buffy had counseled enough teenagers during her off-and-on career to know he'd see his mom as a last resort.

Of course, all the goodwill Buffy had built up working with his dad and being friendly with the family might have been wiped out by her actions when she turned him in- but it couldn't hurt to try.

"Talking about it isn't going to make a difference," he replied, in a bitter, heavy tone. "Mira promised to save Kara. And now she won't. And there's nothing anyone can do about it."

He'd been a fool to trust Mira in the first place. He'd had no way of knowing if Mira would live up to her side of the bargain, or what kind of favor she'd ask in return. But that wasn't what Josh needed to hear, she knew. What he needed to hear- what might actually fix things- was something she'd been trying not to think about since she'd left 2149, but had probably been avoiding long enough.

There'd been no magic left in the future. Since the Hellmouth had closed... since Angel had taken out Wolfram and Hart's legions... since Dawn's death, and Willow's disappearance... fewer and fewer foes had turned up on Buffy's supernatural radar. She'd staked her last vampire in Detroit in 2137, and the last time she'd seen a successfully cast spell had been fifteen years before that. She'd been the last Slayer standing, and she was pretty sure the Scythe was the only reason _she'd_ kept her strength while Gaia decayed around her. But in 85 Million BC, back before the Old Ones had arrived to revel in the strong natural energies of her birthworld...

"Maybe," she said, slowly. "Maybe not."

That finally caught Josh's attention. He jerked his head around, staring at her intently. "What do you mean?" he asked, sharply. "Mira's the only one with a line to the future. And you can bet now that she knows I got Boylan arrested, her bosses will make sure Kara doesn't even make the lottery. She's worse off now than she would have been if I'd never even tried. At least then she might've had a chance."

Buffy shook her head. "There might be another way. Do you have something that belonged to her? Some kind of token she gave you before you came through the portal?"

His breath hitched, and one hand went to the pocket of his work pants. "Why?"

Buffy bit her lip, thinking. Nate had been more relaxed lately, starting to trust her more; he was opening up to Shannon more, too, as more of the Sixers' plot was uncovered. She didn't want to risk raising his hackles again, if he caught her doing something that looked questionable with the Sherriff's son. But she _did_ know how Josh felt, even if he'd been an idiot about it... and if she _could_ bring someone from 2149 without the Sixers' help, it would make Terra Nova's position that much stronger in the inevitable conflict.

She just hoped the retrieval spell really was as simple as Willow's notes made it out to be- and that the magical energy available in an era of extreme natural biomass was as strong as she hoped. She wasn't much of a witch. But she _was_ supernaturally enhanced, and she'd felt the difference in her reflexes since her arrival. If she was lucky, the boost would be enough for her to make it work.

"Bring it to the Eye tonight after dark. I made an appointment to do some research, and I've got the security passcodes- I can lock the door and loop out the camera feeds to make sure no one interrupts us," she said, decisively.

"Interrupts us doing _what_?" Josh asked, half-fascinated, half-disbelieving.

"You'll see," she smiled at him, then reached over and squeezed his shoulder, briefly. "It'll be okay, Josh. Even if what I'm thinking of falls through. Your family loves you, and you didn't hurt anyone. This will all blow over soon enough."

He frowned skeptically, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes as she walked away.

Buffy smiled, then started calculating what she'd need to do before nightfall. She had the grimoire Willow had left behind, but that particular spell had been an early attempt- and not even one she'd come up with on her own.

It was too bad the colony predated even Vengeance demons. The whole situation would've been right up Halfrek's alley.

* * *

><p>She entered the Eye a little while later to do the setup, clutching a bag full of the requisite herbs, powders, sand, candles, and bones. According to Willow's notes, the spell was a petition to Eryishon, the so-called Endless One, who should still be accessible even that far in the past. Even if she hadn't yet moved into Buffy's home dimension, what were a few million years to a being with control over temporal and spatial magic? She was tentatively optimistic about the outcome.<p>

She wasn't the only one there, though; and it wasn't Josh, come early. Buffy slowed as she heard voices ahead, and took care to place her feet as noiselessly as possible as she approached the core room. It sounded as though Josh's sister Madelyn had snuck in there to research something- and as she peered inside, she could see that Horton's Who guy standing behind the access chair, perving on her.

"Oh, my God," she heard Maddy whisper. "He didn't just steal his identity, he killed him."

"Reading material like that's liable to give you nightmares," the white-haired guy spoke up then, prompting Maddy to twist her body around in a panic.

"I should go, my mom's expecting me," she blurted, bolting from the chair like she was on fire.

"Your mother's in surgery. No one's expecting you," the doc replied, catching her arm before she could reach the door.

Buffy scowled, taking that as her cue, and made her entrance. "But someone _is_ scheduled to use the Eye all afternoon. You got a problem with that, _Mister_-? You know what, I don't think I caught your name."

He stiffened, taken aback by her tone, and Maddy took the opportunity to eel out of his grasp and throw herself into Buffy's arms. "Ms. Summers, thank God! He's not who he says he is! He killed Dr. Horton!"

"Shhh, it's all right," she said, patting the girl's back as she glared down the furious scientist. "C'mon. Let's make sure this guy gets a chance to meet your dad."

* * *

><p>It was hours before she was free to go back, and when she did, she found Josh curled up in the chair waiting for her, viewing images from 2149. His family was in some of them; a blonde-haired girl in others, presumably the Kara he was desperate to help.<p>

Everything seemed so life and death at that age. But that didn't mean he was wrong. And there was no way Buffy was going to allow the locusts who'd ruined the future to use people she cared about to ruin the past, regardless. Small-scale lunatics like the ersatz Dr. Horton, who'd threatened to kill Maddy when she put enough clues together to figure out that he wasn't actually her hero, were bad enough.

"Did you bring it?" she asked, closing the door behind her and initiating the secure lockdown procedures.

Josh looked up at her, eyes red and a little wet, and held out a hand, fingers curled around a braided leather friendship bracelet. "She made this for me."

Buffy pursed her lips. Emotional connection was key in the choice of imagery; it might work. "Pull one of those pictures of her up front and center; that should help, too."

He frowned at her, but did what she said. Or- she thought he had; but when she looked up from upending her bag in front of the chair she realized he'd asked for the wrong one.

Her own face stared back at her, looking exactly the same, in a photo from _twenty_-forty-nine, arm slung around the very red-head whose work she was trying to emulate. Willow hadn't aged since the spell cast with the Slayer Scythe, any more than Buffy had; it could have been any photo of them, taken from the early two thousands up until Willow's disappearance, if not for the timestamp.

"Who are you, really?" Josh scowled at her. "You're not Taylor's niece. Are you a time traveler? Does that have something to do with how you plan to help Kara?"

She shook her head. Of all the people she'd thought might pick up on her secret, Josh hadn't even made the list. "Josh..."

"Don't lie to me," he cut her objection short. "Enough people have been lying around here lately, don't you think?"

Buffy considered that a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "I _am_ related to Taylor. It's... kind of complicated. And if I told you the how before you see what I can do, you won't believe me. Let's just get Kara first, okay? And then we'll talk."

His frown deepened, but he finally nodded back. "If you don't, I'll tell my dad," he said, then took a seat on the floor in front of the eclectic arrangement she was setting up. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just follow along, and do what I tell you," Buffy told him, then lit the candles and took a deep breath.

She'd forgotten to have him change the photo back, though. And her mind was full of Willow- shared memories, the origin of the spell ingredients, the suddenness of her best friend's loss- as she held her hand out and began the chant. When the ritual concluded a few moments later with a rumble and a bright pillar of energy, the body that appeared within the circle she'd marked out was most emphatically _not_ a blonde.

Josh gulped, a shocked expression on his face; but all he said was, "Uh... that's not Kara."

Buffy stared at the pale, slumped form on the floor between them, and swallowed as a horrible suspicion shot through her. The day the witch had disappeared, she'd been wearing _exactly that outfit_...

"Willow?" she gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth in denial.

It looked like the Scooby Quotient of 85 Million BC had just increased by one.

-x-


	3. One Foot in Fairy Tale

**Title**: One Foot in Fairy Tale

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not.

**Summary**: B:tVS/Terra Nova. _He was a man of concretes and absolutes, and it had been a long time since he'd listened to his grandmother's stories._ 2800 words.

**Fandom**: Post-series for Buffy, no comics; Terra Nova circa 1.8 "Proof"

**Notes**: Directly follows "Paging Eryishon". Establishing a bit more foundation.

* * *

><p>Nate crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at the red-haired woman lying unconscious on the bio bed. She was pale, unusually freckled for someone hailing from the heavily polluted twenty-second century, wearing very, very old-fashioned clothes- and absolutely unfamiliar to him.<p>

"You'd better have a good explanation for this," he said, throwing a sharp glare at the woman he'd introduced to the colony as his niece Buffy- but remembered better from his childhood as Aunt Liz.

The slight blonde mirrored his posture, every inch of her body language defensive. "I do; I totally do. I just don't think you're going to believe me."

"Let me put it this way, then," he said, deeply displeased. "You can give me that explanation, or I can make one up that _does_ make sense. Which one do you think will put you in a better light?"

He _wanted_ to trust the girl; between her and Shannon, Nate had finally started to feel like he might have a chance at keeping Terra Nova out of the hands of the folks who'd sponsored the Sixers. She'd stopped the flow of information and materiel leaking out of the colony, and had no ties left to the world they'd left behind. But he'd been betrayed by blood before- and the circumstances were suspicious, to say the least. The last time a human being had appeared in Terra Nova off schedule, it had been General Philbrick, sent through the portal alone after the Second Pilgrimage to secretly relieve Nate of his command.

That incident, combined with the rebellion of half the Sixth Pilgrimage, had made him reevaluate everything he thought he knew about his mission and those who shared it with him. If the enemy had enough pull to access Hope Plaza under the noses of the government, then could they also have somehow arranged the 'anomaly' that jolted the portal and dropped Nate into the Cretaceous era more than three months before the rest of the First Pilgrimage? And if _that_ were true, if they'd been angling to put one of their own in control from the start... then he had to suspect everyone in the tier of authority immediately beneath him, as well. Unfortunately, that group included both his old friend Lieutenant Washington and the colony's CSO, Dr. Wallace.

He'd hoped the new Sheriffs would provide a counterbalance for that inability to fully rely on his staff, as they were the only two people known to have arrived in Terra Nova without any other claims on their loyalty- be they to sponsor, military superior, or the lottery office. And prior to the incident in the Eye, Nate had believed they were living up to his somewhat optimistic expectations. But there was only one way from 2149 to Terra Nova- and the young woman on the bed, who'd been found with Buffy and Shannon's son in the Eye, had _not_ come in on any of the official pilgrimages. He didn't know _what_ sort of positive conclusion could possibly be drawn from that.

Buffy bit her lip, eyeing him warily. "I didn't exactly plan for this to happen."

He blinked at that, completely nonplused. "So what, you're saying this was an _accident_?" he repeated, volume rising with the force of his indignation. "How the hell can someone arrive through the portal _accidentally_? Even Shannon here had a little help along the way!"

She winced, then threw a glance over at Josh, who was huddled against the wall under his father's disapproving eye. "It _was_ an accident; I was trying to rescue someone else."

"Rescue?" He shook his head, disgusted. "Laying aside the how for just a minute- and you'd better believe we'll get back to it- just _who_ were you trying to rescue? And why?"

"And who the hell is _this_, if she wasn't someone you were expecting?" Shannon put in.

"She's not in any of the colony databases," Elisabeth spoke up, shaking her head. She'd done the requisite scans when the woman had been brought in. "Nor is her DNA closely related to any we have on record. And I can verify that she didn't come through in any of the known pilgrimages- her molecular signature actually shows no evidence of time displacement at all. It's as though she was born in this time period- though that's clearly impossible, as she also shows evidence of having been poisoned very recently with a toxin created in the late twenty-first century." She framed a red spot on the unconscious woman's neck with her gloved fingers.

Josh took a shaky breath, hunching his shoulders a little further. As well he might: he was still on scut work detail from being caught meeting with Mira. Being caught in questionable circumstances a _second_ time was a considerable black mark in Nate's books, and the boy had to know that.

"She, uh. She was trying to find Kara for me," he spoke up, choosing to answer Nate's question first, though it seemed likely from his reaction that he knew something about the woman as well. "I thought she might be in trouble since I got caught- and the Sixers only know her name because of me. I didn't want her getting hurt for something I'd done." He tipped his chin up defiantly as he spoke.

That behavior might be cute in the father, who at least had the experience and instincts to back up the attitude, but it just made Nate want to pinch the bridge of his nose coming from the son.

"Josh..." the elder Shannon began, then sighed noisily. "Look, I know you're worried about Kara, but didn't you learn anything from sneaking out to meet with the Sixers? Why the hell didn't you talk to me before doing- whatever it was you were doing in there?"

Then he switched focus, narrowing his eyes at Buffy. "And _you_. Why didn't _you_ say anything? I _just_ saw you when you brought Maddy in. What am I supposed to think when you're saving my daughter one minute, then turning right around and getting my son in trouble the next?"

"It didn't seem like it was going to be trouble at the time," she objected, wincing.

"Well, it _was_," Shannon stared her down, the easy working relationship they'd settled into in recent weeks completely abandoned as he bristled at her.

"Jim," Elisabeth murmured, laying a hand on his arm, though the glance she shot at Buffy was equally displeased. "Let's not escalate this; I'm sure she meant well."

Josh ignored his mother, responding to his father's tone with a teenage self-defensiveness that reminded Nate of the few rocky vacations he'd managed to arrange with Lucas after Somalia. "Back off, okay, dad? It wasn't her fault. I blackmailed her into it."

"You _blackmailed_ her?" Shannon's eyes went round with astonishment- and even more alarm, as he turned to stare at his deputy. "With what?"

"Oh, I have _got_ to hear this," Nate rolled his eyes. He'd known there had to be more to his aunt's story than the carefully crafted tale she'd fed him about a privately run human augmentation program that self-destructed in the early 2000s. But he'd never have guessed that Josh Shannon would be the one to uncover it.

"Don't do me any favors, Josh," Buffy cast her eyes upward in what looked more like a petition for patience than shame. Then she took a step closer to the bed, reaching out to brush a fringe of red hair back from the woman's forehead before addressing the question. "It's nothing like what you're probably thinking. It's just- he found a picture of me from 2049."

Shannon shook his head as though he thought something had gone wrong with his hearing. "Excuse me, did you just say _twenty-forty-nine_? But that would make you a hundred years old."

"A hundred and sixty-eight, give or take a few months," she corrected, flashing him- and then Nate- a wry smile. She'd fed Nate the same story; and her DNA had backed up that claim on a relationship level, though Malcolm had also said she seemed to have the telomeres of a twenty-year-old, which didn't.

"There's no way," Elisabeth objected, echoing her own boss's words. "You don't show any of the signs of advanced aging, and no matter how good your surgeon was, it's impossible to repair everything."

"Under normal circumstances, you'd be right," Buffy nodded. "But I'm not exactly normal."

Shannon let that settle a moment, then crossed his arms and glared at Nate. "Did you know about this? Because you're awfully calm over there, _Commander_."

Trust the former cop to bring _that_ detail up in the middle of a much more serious conversation. "About her age? Yes. About this...?" He gestured to the bed, frowning sourly. "Obviously not. Or I wouldn't have asked the question."

"Then she's _not_ your niece after all," Shannon said, as though confirming a long-held suspicion.

"But- you _are_ related to him, aren't you?" Elisabeth said, glancing back and forth between them in bafflement. "I remember Malcolm complaining about a rush DNA test."

"No, I'm not; and yes, I am," Buffy sighed. "Suffice to say, it's complicated. And I _am_ sorry," she added, turning to Shannon. "It's not Josh's fault, though I appreciate him trying to take the blame. It's just- like I told Nate, I didn't think you'd believe me. And I wasn't even sure it would work; I was afraid you'd shut me down before I even tried. Kara seemed like the perfect test case, so I jumped on the excuse: someone who might need saving, but couldn't pose any real threat to the colony."

Elisabeth groaned at that. "Now why does _that_ sound familiar?" she said, throwing her husband a dirty look. "It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission?"

Shannon had the sense to back down a little at that. And seen in that light, Nate had to admit, Buffy's reasoning was understandable. He couldn't forget the example posed by little Leah and her brother Sam- _anyone_ could be a Sixer plant with the right leverage- but the likelihood that an orphaned, working-caste sixteen year old whose boyfriend already lived in Terra Nova would be such a one _would_ have seemed pretty low.

..._If_ Kara had been the one she'd brought through. But she hadn't been. And his aunt still hadn't explained the situation to his satisfaction.

"I'm still not hearing a how. _Or_ a who," he insisted.

"She's- the other girl from the picture," Josh offered reluctantly, with an apologetic glance in Buffy's direction. "Ms. Summers didn't say who she was."

"The picture from _2049?_" Shannon repeated.

"Yes," Buffy admitted, meeting Nate's eyes and Shannon's in turn as she finally decided to fill in the blanks. "I was distracted. Which is an awful, no-good, terrible state of mind to start a ritual in, I know. But there isn't anyone else in Terra Nova who even believes magic exists, and as upset as Josh was, I didn't think it was a good idea to put it off."

"_Magic_?" Shannon sputtered again, eyebrows raised.

"But that's absurd," Elisabeth frowned. "I can accept that there are physical experiences that can't be fully explained by modern science- the portal, for one- but to just give up and label it 'magic' is inaccurate and irresponsible in the extreme."

Nate would ordinarily have echoed the both of them, blasting an offender for such an obvious fabrication: Arthur C. Clarke's famous Third Law made for a very weak excuse. But on the other hand, he _had_ seen the miracle his aunt pulled with that vanishing axe of hers, dancing with a 'saur to defend the colony while its boundary defenses were down. And something else had started niggling at him, too: an old, old memory working its way loose from the depths of his childhood.

Red hair. _Magic_. It couldn't be. Could it?

"Her _name_," he demanded harshly, recalling Sunday afternoons spent at his grandmother's knee. _Her_ grandmother's name had been Dawn Harris, and she'd had a fabulous wealth of stories about the famous linguist named after the sunrise and all her legendary family and friends. They'd been heavily stylized in fairy tale format to keep a young boy's attention, of course... but he'd wondered about them more than once since Buffy had shown up and claimed to be Dawn's sister.

The very idea that magic might be real was ridiculous. But on the other hand...

Commander Nathaniel Taylor was a man who'd walked through a time fracture, set up a colony in the age of dinosaurs, and watched his own proven flesh and blood perform impossible feats with fire and blade. Elisabeth could classify that with inexplicable physical experiences all she wanted, but there was a part of him that once believed whole-heartedly in the fairy tales of his childhood, and was raising the hairs on the back of his neck at the impossibility that just might be lying on a bio bed in front of him.

"Tell me her name," he insisted again.

Buffy stared back, searching his face for something- then straightened her spine at whatever she found there. "I should have known Dawn's kids would pass down the stories," she gasped. "You know who she is, don't you? This is _Willow_."

She spoke the name as though it were something precious. And it would be, if the woman really was the figure from all the stories; if even a tenth of what his grandmother had said about her was true.

"Willow Rosenberg?" Nate replied, shaking his head. "The Red Witch of Sunnydale? Unbelievable."

"Yes," Buffy said, attempting a smile at his reaction, though she fell a little short of the goal. "It was one of her spells I was trying to use."

He scrubbed hand over his beard, considering, still struggling with the dregs of the furious anger that had blindsided him at the initial intruder report. "It's- a compelling explanation, I'll give you that," he said, slowly. "I _want_ to believe you; I've wanted to believe you ever since I spotted you in the crowd. But I'm a man of concretes and absolutes, Aunt Liz, and it's been a long time since I bought into Grandma's stories. I'm going to need more proof than just your word."

"You can't seriously be buying this?" Shannon objected, glancing between them.

"I'm not _selling_ anything," Buffy replied, tartly, then sighed and patted Willow's hand. "He's seen me do magic before, he's just pretended it all had some other explanation. I may be made of fail when it comes to the flashy stuff, but I'm not exactly standard issue Valley Girl either, and crazier people than you have tried and failed to explain me before."

"Just last week, even," a sleepy voice murmured from the bed, followed by a groan as the guest of honor finally joined the proceedings. "What happened, Buffy? Last thing I remember, one of those government scientists was talking to me about something- they were fencing off the area around Dawn's memorial, and something felt all wrong about it. But then I felt this pinch, and I thought I heard Eryishon- which, hey! The magics feel purer, here. Where are we?" She paused, then continued warily. "You're not a vampire, are you?"

"Only in the sucked your life away sense," Buffy cringed, wrapping an arm around her friend and helping her sit up. "You've been gone eighty years, Wills. Kinda. It's a long story, and it's mostly my fault."

"Though whose fault it is, is less important than the method at the moment," Nate commented, breaking in on the conversation. "I hate to interrupt the reunion, Ms. Rosenberg-"

The woman started as she heard his voice, then gasped, green eyes widening at him in surprise. A wash of energy seemed to flow over him with her attention, lifting the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. "Oh. Wow. You're one of Dawnie's, aren't you? Goddess, how many of you did I miss?"

It wasn't quite the reaction he'd been looking for... but that _feeling_ went right to his gut, to the marrow of his bones, like an electric shock. He was still half-convinced that he was either losing his mind, or being carefully fooled... but he could feel his pulse picking up anyway. If magic was real, it could give him a way of reaching the world left behind that his enemies couldn't block or control; could let him off the back foot for once. Let him take the offensive.

_Didn't work 'magic' into your calculations, did you, Lucas?_

Forget just surviving; Terra Nova might actually have a chance to _win_.

"I believe you knew my great-grandfather," he replied with a careful nod. "It's an honor to meet you, ma'am. Now, about that proof?"

-x-


	4. Taking Up the Quest

**Title**: Taking Up the Quest

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not.

**Summary**: B:tVS/Terra Nova. _"It was because of her, wasn't it? The fracture reacted to my heritage, somehow."_ 2500 words.

**Fandom**: Post-series for Buffy, no comics; Terra Nova circa 1.9 "Versus"

**Notes**: More world-building. The idea at the heart of this chapter was the whole inspiration for me to start writing this crossover in the first place.

* * *

><p>"Somebody's getting impatient," Nate said, staring at the twitching, broken-winged form of the massive dragonfly Buffy had dropped on his desk.<p>

"I figured," Buffy frowned. "At first, I just thought it was going to attack the kids at the rehearsal- big gross bug buzzes the crowd; big gross bug goes splat. But then I noticed the cargo."

Nate snorted, the corner of his mouth curling up as he shot her an amused glance at her phrasing. "Well, at least if anyone saw you swat it, they won't be surprised when their reply is delayed yet again. It's definitely one of Mira's; Skye said she might try sending one, after she skipped her last several heliograph appointments."

"More harbingery than immediate disaster, then," Buffy concluded, shuddering. Good. She wouldn't have apologized for hitting it, regardless; the thing was as long as her forearm. There was something just not right with a world where the insects were bigger than your face.

"I reckon so," Nate nodded, leaning over the desk to detach the little microchip from its leg. "Though we are running short on time. I was going to hunt Curran up tomorrow after Shannon and I went fishing at the cliffs- but there likely won't be time for him to insinuate himself with the Sixers before Deborah's situation becomes critical. Skye says they sometimes skip feeding her mother or providing her with medication if they're not satisfied with her performance, and it's been a while since her last message."

Buffy considered that, and the shrewd, calculating intensity in Nate's eyes, then dropped into the chair across from him with a sigh. "Don't give me that look. It reminds me of Dawn when she was trying to drop a hint; I half expect you to start pouting next. To answer your question, though: Elisabeth released Wills from the infirmary this morning. The toxin's clear of her system. We can be on our way by dusk."

Nate chuckled, raising both palms apologetically outward. "I wasn't going to say it. But that would be appreciated. I'll have Shannon break the news to his son."

They _had_ planned on retrieving Kara that night, with Willow properly casting the spell Buffy had flubbed. "Make sure he knows Kara's not actually in any more in danger now than she was yesterday; the spell's not tied to a specific number of years in the future the way the fracture is. We can yank Kara whenever, and no time will have passed for her since the last time they talked."

"And that's why Ms. Rosenberg doesn't recall the eighty years that passed after the date of her disappearance?" He tilted his head, assessingly.

He was still a little skeptical of their grander claims- probably half the reason he was asking her to break out the mojo that evening instead of sending a regular assault team- but he _wanted_ to believe; it was like a constant loop of hope and cynicism churning just under the surface. He didn't have many tells, but Buffy was family, and that stern-jawed thing? His line had been doing that ever since Summers and Harris blood had combined in one big old genetic pool of selective denial and stubbornness.

"Pretty much," she shrugged. "You'd have to ask her for the details; but intent's pretty key. I was really missing her, and thinking about the day she'd disappeared, when I cast the spell."

She'd regretted for years that she hadn't been with Willow that day. The police had decided she must have vanished voluntarily, but Buffy had always believed she'd been either kidnapped or killed. And that it would never have happened if she'd only agreed to visit the memorial with her that afternoon.

Because Buffy had been too selfish to want to ruin her day by visiting ground that still resonated with Dawnie's presence, she'd lost her best friend and the chance to spend time with her sister's legacy whenever she wanted. She'd barely had a handful of visits with Nate's mother, and she'd missed _his_ young adult years entirely, the period when she usually gave Dawn and Xander's descendants the World Is Older Than You Know speech. His son Lucas was the first generation of Scrappy-Doos that she'd never even met at all; she'd only ever seen him and his mother Ayani in pictures.

She hadn't had many options, though. As the actual supernatural Hellishness had faded out of the world, the purely human variety had worsened considerably. And since Buffy's lack of aging was a little obvious in a digitized society without a Watcher to help her hide it, she'd figured she'd best reveal herself on terms she could control. For several decades thereafter she'd been employed by the government as a one-woman army, infiltrating and cleaning up riots and rebellions too hot for regular forces. But once the last person she'd cared about was gone, she'd had no reason to stay. Terra Nova had been her secretly planned escape route, her way of redressing the balance after too many years of regret and loneliness.

Escape from more than that, too, if it was true that the government had been behind the whole thing in the first place.

"I can understand that," Nate replied, his gaze focused somewhere far away. Then he shook his head and glanced at her again, tucking the microchip into a pocket, probably to hand over to Doc Wallace later. "Will she be staying, then?"

Buffy wrinkled up her nose. Another touchy topic; but Nate had kind of a gift for pouncing on those. "We've talked about it. She's worried about what might happen if we try to send her back uptime, though, since I don't remember her being there, and the guys that caught her obviously wanted to keep her. The toxin they hit her with was some kind of debilitating compound; not a good sign when we're talking about the last powerful witch in existence. I didn't know about it, obviously, or I'd have fought them when they bought the land Dawn's memorial stood on and started building that particle accelerator. At the time, I thought it was a coincidence that they'd figured out something had torn the fabric of reality there, but considering everything else I've found out since I came here..."

Nate stiffened in his chair. "Now. Wait just a minute. Are you saying that Hope Plaza was built over my great-great-grandmother's grave?"

He honestly didn't know that? Surely his grandmother hadn't told him all those stories about Dawn Harris' life without mentioning the hows and whys of her death. And his mentor had _definitely_ known that Hope Plaza was constructed on ground soaked in Summers blood; General Philbrick had been Buffy's boss on a few especially difficult missions. "Why did you think you were picked to lead the expedition?"

He stared at her, aghast. "You're saying her death was somehow related to the opening of the fracture?" he asked, voice rising incredulously.

"You really had no idea?" she replied, shaking her head. "Not just related. Caused it. We kept it as quiet as we could, but Dawn was basically a living nexus of interdimensional energy."

He just kept _staring_, processing that for a long moment as the color drained out of his face.

During that pause, Jim walked into the room, then stopped short of the desk and threw Buffy an alarmed look. "What did you do to _him_?" he said, then held up a hand. "No, forget I asked. Not that I don't want to know, but I kind of need the Commander in unbroken condition right now, and it won't help if I'm right there with him."

The expression on his face after Willow had done some magical demonstrations the other night- first on a few loose medical instruments, and then on Jim himself when he'd been the first to scoff- was already a treasured memory of Buffy's; very Blue Screen of Death. That wasn't exactly Nate's problem, though, and she shook her head at her boss: it wasn't the time for levity.

Fortunately, Jim was pretty good about picking up her cues. He raised an eyebrow at her, then turned back to Nate and kept talking like nothing was wrong. "Anyway. We've been questioning Boylan about his contact with the Sixers, and he's refusing to talk to anyone but you. I wouldn't bother you with it, but he's started making threats about what _else_ he might say if you don't let him walk."

Nate took a deep breath at that, his face contorting with disgust. His face was still a little grey, and he looked more his actual age than he had at any point since she'd first laid eyes on him playing lord of the demesne from his balcony, but whatever it was about what she'd said that had jammed his mental gears, Jim had got them moving again. "I'll just bet he has. I'll take care of it; it's something you should probably know about anyway, but I'd prefer if he didn't broadcast it to the whole colony."

He stood slowly, glancing down at the now-dead dragonfly again; then he sighed and nodded to Buffy. "I think you've just answered a question that's bothered me for a very long time. I never reported it to 2149- but something strange happened when I walked through the portal. I arrived several months before the rest of the First Pilgrimage, alone, and no one on this end could ever figure out why. But it was because of her, wasn't it? The fracture reacted to my heritage, somehow."

It was Buffy's turn to gape in surprise at that news. Maybe the differences in herself she'd felt since arriving weren't just her imagination, or products of the magical quotient of the era- if she'd known _that_, she'd have been paying a lot more attention on her way through it. "Crap, and I was so relieved when they said you made it through okay; I'd been worried it would affect you differently than everyone else, because of Dawn's blood. What happened to Lucas when he came through?"

Nate usually ducked any and all questions about Lucas as though he hadn't heard them, but his usual filters must have been down. "It didn't affect him the same way," he said, frowning. "But he can see it, I think, differently than anyone else does. He's been working on calculations to make the portal go both ways since he got here, and from what I saw of his work it certainly looks like he might be able to do it."

Jim seemed to have heard about that part before; his expression darkened, and he swore under his breath. "No wonder the people behind the Sixers hired him, then. If they expected him to have some special insight into the fracture because of your family- think about it. I bet the only reason they didn't put him on the First Pilgrimage _with_ you was to make sure you actually came out the other end."

Buffy swallowed thickly. That certainly explained why Nate never wanted to talk about his son. She'd heard they had problems, but nothing beyond the simple disappearance story since her arrival in the past. The idea that he was actively working with the folks trying to tear down his dad?

Well. Betrayal did kind of run in the family, too. Fortunately, it usually wasn't a permanent condition.

"So the first Waymaker in the family since Dawnie is a black hat? Well, it won't be the first time I've rehabbed someone I cared about from the Dark Side. Though it doesn't sound like it's going to be as easy as 'Luke, I'm your great-aunt; join me, and I will complete your training.'"

Nate choked out a laugh. "Search your feelings, you know it to be true," he rasped. "God; that's a classic. My grandmother had an old VR version of the saga on chip. Lucas loved it, too, until- well." He shook his head. "But you have to be willing to be saved; and Lucas hardened his heart a long time ago."

He still wasn't saying why- but the conversation had been rough enough already that Buffy wasn't going to press him on it. Not now. There'd be time for that later- in more privacy.

"Then I guess we'd better get Deborah Tate the hell out of that camp, and then put Willow on hacking that box of Mira's the Sixers wanted so badly. If anyone can open it, she can, and then maybe we can negotiate with Lucas from a position of strength."

Nate nodded, then walked around the desk and poked his head out the door. Alicia Washington had been talking to Willow down below the command office, and both of them came up the stairs when he called Wash's name.

"Lieutenant, we're going to push up the schedule. I'd like you to guide Buffy and Ms. Rosenberg to the Sixer camp tonight. Just the three of you; in and out, as surgical a strike as possible."

Wash nodded. "Will do, sir. I'll need to take them by the quartermaster's first. But if we go OTG at nightfall, we can probably reach the camp by moonrise; we still don't have a fix on the exact location, but we've been able to determine the general area from Skye's and Shannon's reports."

"Good," Nate said, then nodded to Jim. "We might end up fielding a retaliatory attack before morning if they're successful, so I'd like you to do a thorough check of the new security protocols once we're done with Boylan."

Jim grimaced. "Sounds like a fun evening."

"I'll help when we get back," Willow spoke up, looking very earnest in her pale scrubs and simply styled hair. She didn't have any possessions beyond the clothes she'd been wearing when she came through, and the few keepsakes Buffy had brought in her luggage, and the effect reminded Buffy a little of the nerdy girl who'd befriended her first all those years ago. Buffy knew she was doing it deliberately to some degree to project 'helpful' and 'only harmful to the enemy', but it still made her nostalgic.

"I know I haven't been here long enough for you to see what I can do," Willow continued, "but I'm good with barriers, and anything that deals with shifting energy- you mostly use sonic weapons, right? I can make it so none of theirs work, but yours still do."

"If that's true- well, I have to say, I look forward to seeing you in action." Nate raised his eyebrows.

So did Buffy. She'd been on her own for eighty years; she couldn't wait to fight alongside another Scooby once more. She reached out, linking hands with her friend, then smirked at her nephew. "The Sixers will never know what hit them."

"Tonight, perhaps. But I'm sure they'll learn soon enough," he replied, with a grim, anticipatory smile.

"This is the turning of the tide, ladies. Let's make this evening count."

-x-


	5. Hunting Wabbit

**Title**: Hunting Wabbit

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not.

**Summary**: B:tVS/Terra Nova. _Willow had lived through the gasping last breaths of Gaia once; she was not about to do it a second time._ 2400 words.

**Fandom**: Post-series for Buffy, no comics; Terra Nova circa 1.9 "Versus"

**Notes**: Ladies in action! Plus: tucking in another thread from the sixth drabble in the opening collection, "A Meeting of Equals".

* * *

><p>The three women took a trio of speeder bikes out into the jungle for speed and concealment, heading OTG to a point half a klick from the coordinates where Mr. Shannon had been caught by the Sixers. One of them would have to double with Mrs. Tate on the way back, but according to Skye, her mother was usually just weary, not hurting; she'd be fine, as long as they strapped her close for the return journey.<p>

Lt. Washington dismounted first, whipping out her sonic and standing guard while Buffy unshipped their rescue gear and Willow wove an illusion out of bark, frond, and _notice me not_ to keep the Sixers from tripping over their ride home. Wash was wearing camouflage pants, a black tank top, and streaks of grease paint across her face beaded with sweat from the heat of the night; Willow and Buffy were wearing down-sized copies of the same uniform, from the soles of their tough boots to the ponytails securing their hair out of their faces. Willow had temporarily colored both Scooby girls' hair dark with magic to match the lieutenant; she imagined they looked like a trio of sisters, starlight glittering off sharp smiles and bright eyes as they slipped through the head-high undergrowth.

The leaf litter under foot was thick enough to blunt their footsteps if they were careful. Buffy and Wash kept switching places at point, scanning for any sign of trip cords or pit traps or wandering dinosaurs. Willow murmured a constant, silent cantrip under her breath to enhance their night vision, her first contribution to the hunt. Commander Taylor had offered lenses that would do the same thing, but there was no telling whether the Sixers had the ability to track Terra Novan tech to that level of detail; they'd figured better safe than sorry. If all went well, the rest of her contributions were going to be defensive, too. No sense warning the enemy what she was really capable of before it was necessary.

Besides: they were hunting wabbit. And the only way to catch what they were after was to sneak up on it entirely unnoticed. She'd found that out the hard way, in the wabbit's role, back uptime; she thanked the goddess that Buffy's luck had been there to catch her when _she_ fell. Mira's people weren't going to have any such luxury.

They found the site of Shannon's embarrassment without much trouble, twenty minutes later. The Sixers had done a decent job rubbing out the scuff marks and disguising them with more of the decaying plant matter found scattered everywhere in the tropical climate, but the scars on the trees were a lot harder to hide. Rope and wire moving at speed cut deep into bark if not properly buffered, and the Sixers had been more than a little careless there.

Given their philosophies, Willow wasn't surprised. Buffy's silver-haired nephew thought they were there to strip the past to clothe the future; robbing one world to keep another on life support just a little bit longer. What was one scarred tree, in a valley they planned to clear cut at the first opportunity? It was like stealing from Peter to pay Paul, and just as likely to bankrupt both in the long run- but as long as the worst wasn't going to happen in their lifetimes, they probably didn't care about the consequences.

Well, it was time that changed. Willow had lived through the gasping last breaths of Gaia once; she was not about to do it a second time, not when she could do something to stop it from happening. Not while she had the Slayer at her side. Once a Scooby, always a Scooby. She only W-worded that the others were there, too- all of them, from the ones she'd grown up fighting vampires with to the more mundane friends she'd left behind in 2070. But they'd all lived full lives, whether with or without her; all she could do now was honor their memories.

Behind the tree where the trap was set, a faint path made by more than one pair of feet led off in the direction of moonrise. They filed along it, Wash first, but before they had taken more than a dozen steps, several bushes rustled off to the left. The lieutenant held up a fist, and Buffy and Willow froze behind her, just two more shadows in a forest full of them. Willow frowned as the rustling crept closer, then reached out to the fabric of life around them, tangling her senses in the skeins of energy that rose so easily to her touch; she could almost hear the song of the green that Illyria used to talk about, and twined with it, a throb of hunger, the tang of iron on her tongue.

It wasn't Sixers. Their intruder was a little more on the scaly and carnivorous side.

"_Dormite_," she murmured, voice barely louder than the scrape of stem and leaf from the dinosaur's direction. She pulled on the sleeping weight of the vegetative biomass around her, using its vast strength to maze claw and fang into quiescence. "_Dormis. Dormite!_" she commanded, projecting calm, satiation, and disinterest in the predator's direction.

The rustling slowed, then stopped, and the whatever it was settled to the ground with a heavy thud. Willow heard a noise like the coo of a sleeping dove, only fifty times larger, and shivered, releasing her grip on the magics again. Then she nodded to Buffy as the Slayer threw her a thumbs' up.

It had been so _simple_ to reach out, the energy so clear to her senses; like diving into a cool, pristine lake. It held none of the addictive tarry jolt of Sunnydale's warped energies, or the exhausting, grayed-out weft of late twenty-first century Chicago. It felt _amazing_, and more than a little intimidating- it was going to take some time before she felt comfortable with the changes.

Wash inched forward at Buffy's gesture, craning her neck for a glimpse of the interloper. Her eyebrows went up as she parted wide, palm-like leaves above its position; then she retreated, echoing Buffy's thumbs up. "Nykoraptor," she informed them. Then she started moving up the path again, leaving the dozing critter unharmed.

_An it harm none, do what ye will_, as Tara would have said. Willow approved. The dinosaur couldn't help the fact that it was hungry.

Bootprints multiplied ahead of them, circling around the base of a thick-boled forest giant, and the three came to a halt, gazing up along its length. One side of the tree was laddered, toe rests scraped out of the bark up to a platform several meters from the ground; several climbing ropes were also secured to its branches, tied up out of reach of casual visitors. A thin thread of smoke-scent drifted down from the platform, followed by a background susurrus of white noise: the living sounds of a few dozen people at rest. If anyone was awake, they weren't burning torches or shining lights anywhere within view.

Wash jerked her chin at them, then held up two fingers. They'd found the Sixer camp. Time for Phase II: finding Deborah Tate and freeing her.

"Can you do that sleep thing to the whole camp?" the lieutenant murmured intently, narrowing her eyes in Willow's direction.

The previous plan had involved a lot more sneaking; Willow didn't blame her for wanting to short-cut it. Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple. "I can make the sleepers stay asleep; and the tired ones nod off. But anybody alert? Not so much. Not unless I do it firmly enough to risk hurting people. Especially if I'm disabling their sonics at the same time." Injured people. The sick- like Mrs. Tate. Or children, like the runaways Buffy had told her about. If Willow laid it on too thickly, and didn't promptly reverse it, some of them might never wake up. Especially with her magic reacting so differently.

Wash considered that, then nodded. "All right, then. Do what you can. Buffy?" She lifted a hand from her sonic and gestured toward the tree.

"Making like a monkey- _ma'am_," Buffy smirked at her, then holstered her own gun and tested the handholds with a swift tug. Then she was _up_, quick as a blink, clinging to the tree in the dark to guard while Willow did her thing.

"All right. I'll have to stay here to keep it up, though, and I can't keep all three spells going at once. Be quick, or the night vision spell might fade while you're still up there." Unless she anchored the spell to them individually, or made physical modifications to their eyes- but she was trying to avoid anything that delicate for the time being, too.

"Understood," Wash said, then set the toe of one boot in the lowermost cut in the bark, waiting for her cue to follow Buffy upward.

Willow let her eyes drift shut, then threw her head back and spread out her arms, building a mental net to snare the entire camp in its web. She couldn't reliably identify one lifespark apart from another, except to tell that there _were_ a few awake; they flared brighter than the others, the colors of their auras slightly more vivid. She mentally tagged the two nearest her to keep them out of the weave, then started casting, quietly. "Tace; Tacete. _Dormite_."

The stationary sparks steadied in her mind's eye, gently lulled by the force of her will; the two tagged as _friend_ burned brighter with impatience for a moment, then moved up and in amongst the others, searching for the weary soul they'd come to rescue. Three of the alert sparks she didn't know burned lower at her touch- then flared up in fury, as she'd expected; they'd realized something strange was going on, and slipped out of her gentle grip before she could capture them with the others.

Two sparks, moving away from her; three sparks casting about, then zeroing in on the position of the intruders. Willow kept chanting, keeping up the mental pressure on the Sixers in hopes that it would at least slow them down, but she couldn't _see_ what was going on to help any further.

One spark split off, gathering up one of the still ones, and retreated. Its companion stayed behind, fending off its three opponents- Buffy? One of the others burned with a similar hue, though, confusing her.

Willow blinked her eyes open again just in time to see Wash's head appear over the railing above her, a bone-thin, drowsing body slung over her shoulder. Sounds of a scuffle followed close behind- Buffy, still fighting the other three, the sound of a gunshot ripping after her. Not a sonic; she'd quieted those, but an actual old-fashioned bullet driver.

The shot shivered the web of serenity Willow was holding, and she winced, as much for the spell's sake as her fear for Buffy's health. One more of those, and people would start to wake up. She freed enough attention to gesture with one hand, yanking Wash and her passenger bodily over the rail; it wouldn't be the gentlest landing, but at least it would be quick. They had to get going.

Wash gave a wordless shout, clutching Mrs. Tate close and staggering a little as her boots hit earth. Then she stared at Willow, wide-eyed and panting. "Shit. Warn me next time," she said, easing Skye's mother to the turf, then drew her sonic with unsteady hands, aiming upward at the platform she'd come from. "Package secure!" she called, letting Buffy know it was time to retreat.

The sleep spell began to fail as the noise further disturbed the sleepers, and Willow bit her lip, mentally urging Buffy onward. The struggling sounds continued, still moving closer, though not as quick as she could wish- until she could finally pick out a pair of female voices, arguing.

"You're going to regret not killing us in our sleep," one of them spat, angrily. "You think we'll give you the same courtesy when we take the colony?"

"I don't kill if I don't have to. Not anymore," Buffy replied, angrily. "You're not the only one who's been on the losing side of a war. Get over it! We don't have to be your enemies."

"You couldn't _possibly_ understand why I'm here," her opponent growled, railing creaking behind her as she backed up at last into Willow's range of vision. She was dark-skinned, obviously strong- probably their leader, Mira?- but no one purely human should be strong enough to hold Buffy off without some modifying factor. Not good.

"Try me," Buffy spat, following her into view- and Willow winced at the blood staining her right shoulder. Yep; she'd been hit. "I think you'd be surprised."

Mira flashed a toothy smile in return, glancing back past Buffy into the depths of the tree camp, and below them, Wash decided enough was enough. The lieutenant fired her weapon at Mira, sending the woman staggering; and Willow took the opportunity to sink her senses into the green again, sending a sudden welter of vines snaking down from higher branches to bind the Sixers' leader.

She felt that touch of strangely resonant energy again as her magic brushed against Mira's aura, and a spark of recognition shot through her; but what it meant would have to wait for later. It did make things more urgent, though, so she reached out for her friend the way she had for Wash, levitating her swiftly off the platform.

"Thanks, Wills," Buffy gasped, pressing the heel of her hand to her shoulder. "Lieutenant?"

Wash shook her head at the increasing noise above them as the rest of the Sixers started boiling out of their beds. "So much for subtle," she said. Then she reholstered her sonic and scooped up Mrs. Tate.

Willow nodded to both of them. "Go. I'll smooth out the tracks."

Not that it would be enough. There was something more to Mira, a _potential_ that would never have flourished uptime with the fabric of the world's magic dead and drained. But the others would have to cut her free first before she could track them; the rescue party would still be safe, if they hurried. Just.

Willow grinned again, flushed with adrenaline, and followed her hunting sisters back to Terra Nova.

-x-


	6. Applying Leverage

**Title**: Applying Leverage

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG-13/T

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not.

**Summary**: B:tVS/Terra Nova. _"Speaking of secrets," Buffy said, frowning at Mira. "What brought you to Terra Nova, anyway?"_ 2000 words.

**Fandom**: Post-series for Buffy, no comics; Terra Nova circa 1.10 "Now You See Me"

**Notes**: More fallout from "Paging Eryshion"...

* * *

><p>Buffy let Nate lead as they hop-scotched across the rocks edging the rushing stream. She could probably have gone twice the speed he was managing without falling into the water, if she didn't let her attention wander; but they were there looking for signs of Lucas, not trying to cover as much ground as possible.<p>

"You sure it was a good idea to leave Jim in charge of the colony while we're gone?" she asked, then leapt to the top of a boulder next to the trail for a better look around, scanning slate-colored stone and thickly grown vegetation for any sign that another human had been there before them.

"Why?" Nate glanced up and back at her, brow furrowed at the question. "You don't think he's the right man for the job?"

Buffy made a see-sawing motion with her hand. "I think he can _do_ it, I just think there's a lot going on right now with Skye under house arrest, her mom turning up alive with a possible cure for sincyllic fever, and two other women not on the colony rolls showing up out of nowhere. Whatever you told Boylan to shut him up, he's sure not stopping anyone _else_ from gossiping in his bar. Everyone knows the Sherriff's involved somehow, and not everyone trusts him the way you do."

"Well, I'm not exactly disinterested in this situation myself," Nate shrugged, then turned his attention back to the stream. They were nearing the head of a small waterfall, and he'd unshipped his backpack, rooting around in it for the coil of rope he'd brought along. "And short of trying to explain magic to the whole colony, there's not much I can do about the gossip. Regardless, he's the only person with any authority I can be one hundred percent sure will keep the Sixers out while Wash and I are both OTG. We may have blinded Mira's main eyes in camp, but Boylan can't have been the only one working deals with her people on the side."

"Oh, I agree," Buffy shrugged. "I just wonder what the hell else he and Willow are going to get up to while we're gone," she added, grinning mischievously at him. "They both have a way of... improvising in unexpected situations, you may have noticed."

Her nephew gave her an amused, rueful look, then finished securing his rope and picked his way around to start rappelling down the steep rocks beside the waterfall. "Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine," he said. "How much damage could they do in twenty four hours, really?"

Buffy snorted. "I'll be sure and tell them who they have to thank for jinxing them when we get back," she said, then eyed the slanted cliff and took a running leap, taking the height in a few carefully placed bounds. She landed in a crouch at the bottom before Nate was even halfway down, smiling to herself at the exertion. Her Slayer side hadn't got much of a workout in Terra Nova, just that one incident when the dino herd had charged the colony and that raid on the Sixers, and it felt good to stretch her abilities.

Nate made a noise of disgust as he came down after her- but Buffy didn't stick around to hear whatever smart remark he'd undoubtedly have added. Her gaze had caught on another cliff-like protrusion a dozen yards away, covered with white etchings clearly visible against the dark rock. The symbols could have meant anything from summoning spells to wormhole equations for all she knew, but they had definitely been put there by human agency. "This what you're looking for?" she said, pointing them out.

Her nephew glanced over as he reached the bottom, then started unhooking himself from the rope. He narrowed his eyes at the mathematical angles and curves, then started searching around under their feet as well- and finally paused as his eyes lit on a charred pile of sticks nearby. "Yeah. He was here."

Buffy skipped over to the impromptu firepit, crouching to place a hand over the blackened stubs of wood. "Cold," she said, shaking her head. "It's been a while since he was here."

Nate sighed as he crossed the rocks to join her, staring down at the symbols scrawled under and around the ashes. Then he slung his bag off his shoulder again, retrieving a black light to aim at the markings. "Looks like he's gotten closer to a solution, too. Damn; I was hoping the fact that Mira never got her hands on that box had slowed him down."

Buffy opened her mouth to reply- then whirled abruptly on the spot as she felt a subconscious _itch_ approaching behind her. There were only a handful of people sharing the planet with her at the moment who had also been touched by the supernatural, and half of those were currently with the enemy; and unluckily, were also two of the only people who might expect the colony leader to come to that spot without any backup. Good thing she'd insisted on coming along.

She whipped a knife off her belt, holding it up in position to throw- and came face to face with Mira, who seemed as startled to see Buffy as Nate was at her quick movement. The terrorist leader had a sonic rifle in her hands, but wasn't quite able to arm it by the time Buffy released the knife in a quick, hard throw, hurling it so it hit Mira's left wrist pommel first. Before she could recover from that, Nate was on his feet again, pulling his pistol to back Buffy up, and Mira swore.

"Not quite what you had in mind, was it?" Buffy snarked. "I'm starting to really enjoy foiling your plans. Put the gun down."

Mira was still wearing a bandage around her right upper arm from the bullet she'd caught in Buffy's night-time raid to retrieve Deborah Tate, and her hand tightened visibly on the stock of the rifle for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and took her bruised hand off the gun, crouching slowly to lay it on the rocks.

Nate scrambled over to retrieve the weapon, then holstered his own handgun, yanked a long serrated knife off Mira's belt, and took a few long steps back. "What are you doing here, Mira?" he asked, warily.

"Same thing you are, apparently," she said, glaring between the pair of them sourly as Buffy stooped to retrieve her own knife.

"What, you can't just ask Lucas directly what he's up to?" Taylor replied.

She snorted, unamused. "You think he actually tells me all the details of his work? It's been a couple of weeks since the last time he stopped by the camp. This job was only supposed to take six months, and it's been more than three _years_."

"And it's going to be even longer, since he never got the computer you were supposed to bring through for him, isn't it?" Buffy chirped, giving her a false smile. "Oh! Yeah; didn't we tell you we figured out what's in the box? We've got a computer genius of our own who finally cracked it. You might have seen her the other day; red haired girl, has a real gift for area of effect electronic suppression."

Mira's face darkened at that. "So that's why our guns didn't work when you stormed the camp. Was she the reason half my people wouldn't wake up until you were long gone, too? Some kind of new, aerosolized suppressant drug?"

"A girl's got to keep _some_ of her secrets," Buffy replied. Then she used her knife to cut off a length of Nate's rope, and approached the woman, gesturing for her to turn around.

Mira tensed, but obeyed, fuming as Buffy secured her wrists; she was probably used to being able to beat most people in hand to hand combat, but she and Buffy had already gone a round, and while she'd got a lick in during their brief struggle earlier Buffy had put up quite a fight. If Mira was going to try to bolt now, she'd probably wait until Nate was the one guarding her, not the Slayer.

That thought reminded Buffy of something Willow had told her, and she frowned. "Speaking of secrets," she continued. "What brought you to Terra Nova, anyway? We figured your employers must have gamed the lottery somehow to put their people in. But why you? I know- I _know_- you have a better developed sense of right and wrong than to think you're actually on the side of the angels, here."

"You do, do you?" Mira glared over her shoulder at her. "And who's to say _you're_ on the side of the angels? The last time I tried to stand up for what I believed in, your precious government threw me in _prison_ for my efforts. And then my daughter got sick, and I had no money to treat her. What was I supposed to do, turn down the offer that might mean I could save her, and strike back at the dome-bred assholes lording it over all the rest of us at the same time? You can take your 'sense of right and wrong' and _shove_ it, bitch."

Buffy flinched back a little at the woman's vehemence, some of her anger seeping out of her at the story. Sure, Mira could just be fishing for sympathy with that blunt speech- but it was disturbingly plausible. And goddess knew Buffy was there for much the same reason. The only difference was, she'd been able to make a clean break from her would-be masters, and her flesh and blood had already arrived in Terra Nova ahead of her.

She cleared her throat, then shot a warning look at Nate, hoping he would go with what she was about to suggest. Nate frowned back, but nodded; he probably had some idea where she intended to take the conversation. Not the partially activated potential Slayer thing- she hadn't shared that with him yet- but the family angle. After what had happened with Willow and then Kara, he should see the potential to blow the whole war open here as well as she did.

"You're not the only one who had to leave family behind," Buffy continued, softening her tone. "You ought to know, since you were so willing to use Josh's girlfriend against him."

"You think another sob story will change anything for me?" Mira replied, scornfully. "I'm not going to switch sides and worship at Taylor's altar while her _life_ depends on this. Even if it takes Lucas _another_ three years to finish the calculations longhand."

"And what if her life _didn't_ depend on it?" Buffy said, bluntly. "What if I told you we have something new in camp, a trick our new computer guru figured out, that lets us bring people from the future without activating the portal directly?"

Mira's eyes flashed, and her posture stiffened. "That's not possible," she spat.

"Oh, but it is," Nate added, nonchalantly. "I nearly had a heart attack when my niece here demonstrated proof of concept; I thought for a minute she and her friend might be in league with _you_, that you were trying to suborn my Sherriff and his family. But they proved to me that wasn't the case. They _can_ bring people through, one at a time. Anyone."

"I don't believe you," Mira insisted, glaring at both of them.

Buffy shrugged. "You will, when we get you back to camp. You know what Kara looks like, right? You've talked with her, because of Josh? And you know _you_ didn't summon her."

Disbelief and hope flickered across Mira's face, and she swallowed hard. "If you're mocking me..."

Nate exchanged a long look with Buffy, promising a detailed conversation later- if they could convert Mira, it would change _everything_.

"We're not," he said, gently. Then he gestured with the muzzle of the rifle. "C'mon. You'll see."

-x-


	7. Applying Leverage: Part II

**Title:** Applying Leverage: Part II

**Author:** Jedi Buttercup

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** The words are mine; the worlds are not.

**Summary:** _Maybe, if they took out enough of his support, Lucas would agree to talk? Buffy could only hope. _2400 words.

**Spoilers:** Terra Nova through 1.11 "Within"; B:tVS post-series

**Notes:** Sulien once asked for a bit of fluff from Nate's POV as a coda to the Dancing with Dinosaurs 'verse, daydreaming about magic and the possibilities for the future of the colony. But to get to that, I first have to wrap up the conflict parts. Originally posted to LJ on 1/25/15.

* * *

><p>Buffy stood against the wall of the infirmary next to Commander Taylor, watching the expression on Mira's face as she sat on a biobed holding her seven year old daughter's hand. Sienna looked thin and a little wan, taking careful breaths to adjust to the higher oxygen levels of the Cretaceous atmosphere, but seemed otherwise healthy; Mira, on the other hand, was bloody from right wrist to shoulder from their close encounter with a pair of adolescent slashers near Snakehead Falls. The skin knitters were taking care of it, but it had been a deep, nasty wound; there might have been permanent tendon damage if she'd gone back to her treetop fort instead of Terra Nova.<p>

That hadn't been the only damage, either. Mira had taken out Buffy and Nate's bikes before confronting them over Lucas' latest batch of graffiti; the slashers had paid the effort forward and taken out her transport, too. That had left the three of them with a long day's hike to return to Terra Nova on foot. At the start of it, Buffy would have given no better than even odds they'd all make it back whole. But it seemed luck had been with them, for once.

"So the colony's still in one piece," she said, in a thoughtful tone of voice. "I hear they even caught one of the Sixers trying to break in and steal that computer-box again while we were gone."

"Told you Shannon was up to the job," Nate replied lightly, arms crossed over his black tee shirt.

"Mmm, so you did." Buffy cast her great-nephew a sidelong look, taking in the fond wrinkles around his eyes as he watched Jim Shannon walk up to the Sixer leader, his own five year old in tow. "You _have_ noticed that he's happily married, I hope?"

Nate blinked at her, startled, then gave a rough chuckle and turned his attention back to her boss. "It's not about that, though I won't deny he's easy enough on the eyes. Which isn't saying anything you didn't already say before me. It's more... well, just watch." He gestured toward the unfolding scene.

Shannon hunched forward, hands braced on his thighs as he looked up into Sienna's face. The Sheriff smiled as he confided something to her; the little girl hesitated only a moment before repeating it to her mother with wide, hopeful eyes. Mira gave a slight, reserved nod, which Shannon echoed with an encouraging smile and another question. Then Sienna broke into a gap-toothed smile, beaming equally at both adults, and slid off the biobed to offer her hand to Zoe Shannon. The pair skipped off to the side, Zoe leading them over to the baby ankylosaur Shannon's wife and Dr. Wallace had recently saved via surgery in ovo; bright chatter drifted in their wake. Shannon stared after them long enough to make sure their attention was fully diverted, then turned back to Mira, all business once more. The pair then began a no-nonsense, low-voiced conversation, their expressions mirror images of dogged resolution.

"So he's good at his job," Buffy observed. She'd thought him crazy when Nate had first assigned her to work with him, but he'd grown on her over time. Sort of like the grown-up edition of Xander, the best friend, legendary Watcher and devoted family man that she still missed with all her heart. "So what?"

Nate snorted. "You heard what Mira said about her employers' intentions for the colony. I've suspected something like that was in the wind ever since Philbrick came through alone after the Second and tried to relieve me of my command. I lost my son, my mentor, and a man I once called friend all in the same night. The Sixers' rebellion two years later only added to my suspicions. After that, Wash was the only one left I dared trust... until Shannon arrived. He's the only other person I've been able to be _sure_ wasn't working for the enemy in more than three years. The only one as devoted to this place, and its future, as I am."

Buffy knew well the relief of having another shoulder waiting to bear you up; an equal to share the load of unbearable but inescapable duty. The faces of Scoobies and lovers long gone stirred in her memory again, both the ones who'd let her down and the ones who'd borne her up. She felt a fond, pained smile curve at the corners of her mouth as she thought of Willow, the only one of them still with her, and conceded the point.

"Epic bromance territory; got it," she replied, then decided it was time to broach a more serious, if not more important, subject. "And how do I fit into the picture?"

Nate studied her again, then shook his head. "You're family, Aunt Liz. And the things you can do- they might just give this colony a chance. But your means and motives are far outside my experience, and you carry too many secrets for me to be entirely comfortable with. Full trust is going to take time. For both of us."

Buffy nodded back. That was about what she'd figured. "Is that why you haven't asked yet?"

"Pardon?"

She frowned. By now, it had to be obvious that an appeal to Eryshion wasn't limited by the whens or wheres of the person to retrieve. There were other limits, but she hadn't yet spelled them out for Nate. And yet, he'd never mentioned his lost wife. She'd hesitated before to bring up what had to be a very painful memory, but she doubted there'd ever be a better time to ask.

"Whether it would be possible to do this for Ayani," she clarified gently, gesturing toward Sienna.

She knew immediately she'd made a mistake. Nate went as tense as a drawn bowstring as he glanced at the child, now a quiet, polite presence at Zoe's side; his stance had gone so rigid that even the tendons stood out on the side of his neck. One hand dropped to his hip, flexing on the butt of his handgun in unthinking reaction; then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, relaxing muscle by muscle. When he was calm again, he speared her with a look as cold as a glacier.

"I'll forgive the question, because you weren't there," he said, tersely. "You want to know why I haven't asked? I have eyes. You've fetched three people so far, and not a one in circumstances that contradicted anything we know about their history. You've even admitted to being the _cause_ of one disappearance that'd bothered you for years." He gestured toward Willow. "Which means that regardless of the fact that we're supposedly in another timeline here, paradoxes are a real concern."

Buffy winced. If he was that sure it wouldn't work, he had to be absolutely certain his wife was dead. Maybe even saw it happen? Lucas' anger would make a lot more sense if he'd been there, too. She wouldn't wish that on anyone, even without getting into the possibility that breaking what was probably a key pivot point in their history to save her great-niece-in-law could shatter reality in the process. Because he was right; whether or not there were parallel timelines out there where Ayani survived, she could only touch _her_ timeline's residents.

"I'm so sorry," she said, inadequately. She'd have to doublecheck with Willow later whether there were any loopholes; but best drop it for now.

He waved her apology aside, then swiftly changed the topic. "I noticed something else, as well: it took you longer to fetch Mira's daughter than it did Ms. Poulier. And it was _you_ that did the..." he made a wide, uncomfortable gesture in the air, echoing the circle she'd raised for the spell, "...summoning, not Ms. Rosenberg. I thought that sort of thing was supposed to be her specialty?"

Buffy shuddered, and took a deep breath. Even after all this time, even though she'd already told him part of the story and he if anyone deserved to hear the rest, she found it difficult to talk about Dawn's origins. If the government had known who Buffy really was to the Key, would they have ever let her go? That possibility was past her now, though; and it was information he'd need to factor into his plans.

"It is," she said. "The thing is, the spell I used? It has diminishing returns. The more I use it, the more energy it takes to bring someone through. And when Willow tried it, it wouldn't work at all. She says the only people it _will_ work for are the ones who already 'echo across time'."

His gaze sharpened on her, as wary as Dawn's had ever been when suspicious that Buffy was leaving something out of an explanation. "You mean the ones affected by the time fracture. Like Lucas and I," he guessed, shrewdly.

She nodded, feeling the pain of her sister's loss all over again.

"Then how does that explain you? You're Dawn's sister, not her daughter- assuming you've been telling the truth. I may not be an expert geneticist, but it's my understanding that unique mutations of DNA don't transmit that way."

"Those secrets you mentioned? This is one of them," she replied. "I can't really explain the hows and whys, but she was made from me, Nate. We called her my sister because she was supposedly only five years younger than me, and everyone's memories were altered to remember her that way, but she didn't actually exist before my sophomore year at college. The people who built her... they used me to do it. And when they unmade her, when the fracture was created..." She swallowed, hard.

Nate stared back at her, aghast. "Made from you?" he began, then cut himself off with an abrupt gesture. "You're saying, you're not so much my aunt as...?"

Buffy gave a tight shrug. "The important part is, whatever made her the Key? It knows me. I can't use its energy, not like she could, but the day I tried to fetch Kara the first time and got Willow instead? I didn't know it then, but it wouldn't have worked at all if it hadn't been for that connection."

"Well." He cleared his throat. "Then I suppose we'd better choose our next few targets well... and you'd probably better teach me how to do it, too. If that's even possible."

"I sure hope it is," Shannon said, breaking into the conversation. He'd been pretty skittish about magic since finding out it was real, but the seriousness of the matter at hand seemed to have overcome any lingering uneasiness. "Because Mira says half her people are in the same boat she was: family back uptime given quote, 'opportunities', in exchange for service. And most of the rest don't have any family other than their fellow Sixers. We can probably turn most of them if we can move fast and retrieve their hostages before Lucas' employers figure out something's gone wrong."

"You mean, before they figure out something _else_ has gone wrong," Buffy replied, then glanced at Nate again. "No guarantees, but it might be worth the effort. Sooner or later they'll send another special computer through for Lucas, or enough guns and tech to breach the walls, or something else we won't be able to predict or plan for. We need to take the initiative on this."

"And what happens if the colony finds out we're bringing the Sixers' loved ones here rather than more of theirs? Almost everyone here left _someone_ behind," Nate pointed out, playing devil's advocate. "There are dozens of Sixers; there are _hundreds_ of Terra Novans whom I took an oath to serve and protect."

"You _are_ putting them first," Shannon countered, firmly. "Their survival. The people in charge of this project don't care about the colonists; as far as they're concerned, they've already rendered themselves irrelevant by coming here. If this is what it takes to save them, then that's what we've got to do. And you don't have to put _all_ the Sixers first. Look into the colony's records; figure out a way to prioritize who gets a crack at it, or even run our own lottery and alternate who we retrieve. Tell 'em we have some kind of limited-use tech that'll bypass the portal and, I don't know, claim later that you accidentally put _all_ the colonist records in the hat, including the ones for the bunch who rebelled. That'll explain the Sixer dependents. And meanwhile, we fort this place up against whatever they're planning to send at us with the Eleventh."

Nate frowned, expression torn. "I don't like it... but I suspect I'd like the results of doing nothing even less. I managed to track Curran down before we went to the Falls and got him to spy on the Sixers in return for another chance, and Reynolds says he sent word that several messages came through yesterday. No details, but from Lucas' reaction, I'd lay odds whatever they had to say doesn't bode well for the colony."

Buffy sighed, tipping her head back against the prefab wall. "How's that quote go? 'Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world'? This spell might not be quite _that_ much of an advantage, but..."

"It might give us a fighting chance," Shannon replied. "So what's next? Mira's offered to leave Sienna here as assurance while she goes back to her camp to talk to her people."

"Much good that'll do if Sienna takes it into her head to escape the way Mira's last child associate did," Nate replied. But then he nodded, pushing away from the wall. "Alright. Shannon, get with Wash, start revamping security protocols both for repatriated Sixers and possible threat via Hope Plaza. In the meantime, Summers and I will go OTG _with_ Mira. Those of her people who'll come, we'll try to help; those who won't... well, one way or the other, we'll be ready."

And maybe, if they took out enough of his support, Lucas would agree to talk? Buffy could only hope. She'd lost enough of her family to the slings and arrows of fate as it was.

"Understood, Commander," Shannon replied.

Buffy echoed him with a solemn nod.

-x-


End file.
